


Om'toi

by ceruleansmile



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Spock, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sick Spock, Vulcan Biology, Vulcan Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-11-19 22:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11322771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceruleansmile/pseuds/ceruleansmile
Summary: "If one were to ask Jim Kirk whether or not one Mr Spock was to be considered graceful, he would not hesitate to agree. After all, there were not many instances Jim could recall in which his First Officer had been anything other than the definition of utter composure. Every single one of Spock’s action was executed with utmost precision."This will be a collection of connected One Shots, depicting the various ways Spock gets himself into all sorts of dumb and painful situations. Some will be funny, some will be a bit sad, but I'm a sucker for happy endings. (Yes, I am still working on Threaded, I just wanted something a little less plot-driven to work on, too!)





	1. Labyrinthine Righting Reflex

**Author's Note:**

> Additional Warnings:  
> Mention of Blood (very mild)  
> Mention of a bone being reset by a layman (non-graphic)  
> Might Include Errors (sorry.)

If one were to ask Jim Kirk whether or not one Mr Spock was to be considered graceful, he would not hesitate to agree. After all, there were not many instances Jim could recall in which his First Officer had been anything other than the definition of utter composure. Every single one of Spock’s action was executed with utmost precision. But, even without said collectedness, even when angered to the point of snarling, Spock had never once suffered from one of the many verbal and physical malfunctions the rest of the crew tended to fall victim to when furious or embarrassed.

Standing at the base of a large, tree-like plant, Jim watched his First Officer scale the twisting structure with relative ease.

Due to a rather unfortunate encounter with a herd of large, aggressive herbivores a mere ten minutes into the exploration of their latest planetary discovery, they had become separated from the landing party’s campsite. This would not have been too much of an issue, had their communicators been working. But, it appeared standard issue communicators were not sturdy enough to survive a reckless dive into foreign waters to escape a dozen artiodactyl.

Wiping at the drying locks stuck to his forehead, Jim gave Spock’s blue uniform shirt another twist, wringing the excess water from the thick fabric. Spock had deemed it prudent to remove the garment before making his way up the tree, the material woven just a hint too tightly to allow for a comfortable tree-climbing experience. Brows furrowing, Jim directed his gaze skywards once more, noting Spock had reached one of the uppermost branches of the gnarled tree.

“Spock!” Jim called out. “Status?”

“I believe there may be a storm coming within the next hour, Captain, there appears to be a cumulonimbus to the east,” Spock replied. “We do not appear to be too far from the campsite, however, I am able to see the colourful cliff structure you took note of when we beamed down.”

“That’s good,” Jim sighed. “Alright, let’s find some shelter and then we’ll see if we can figure out how to get back to the camp without getting trampled by some second-hand reindeer.”

“Indeed.”

“Alright, then, get down from there, Mr Spock, if you please, we have a shelter to find.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Spock descended the tree with as much skill as he had climbed it. Until the branch he reached for to stabilise himself snapped clean in two. With a terrified shout stuck in his throat, Jim took a stumbling step forward, as if his fragile human body would be enough to prevent Spock’s imminent collision with the unforgiving ground.

In the end, there was no collision.

Spock twisted in mid-air, the movement a blurred undulation, and landed in a low crouch just a few metres from where Jim was standing. For a moment, neither of them stirred. Then Spock stood and brushed his black thermal shirt back into order, as if he had not seconds ago been in danger of shattering his spine.

“What the fuck,” Jim blurted. “What the fuck was that?”

Spock lifted his eyes to meet Jim’s, one eyebrow inching towards his hairline. “Captain?”

“That! You- how did you do that?”

“…As you are aware, the Modern Vulcan descended from a creature similar to Earth’s felines. This perceived similarity is not based on the appearance of our ancestors, but on the internal structure of various organs and muscle groups. While the Modern Vulcan does not possess all of said characteristics, some have remained, including the… _gas’rak’ik tvisek_ ,” Spock said, after a moment of hesitation.

While Jim’s repertoire in regards to Vulcan’s various, regional dialects was by far not as extensive as Uhura’s, he was more than fluent in ShiKahrian Vuhlkansu. Sheer luck had been at work when said dialect turned out to be the one Spock had grown up speaking, allowing Jim an interesting insight into his First Officer’s amusing quirks. An example being the extensive repertoire of Vulcan swear words Spock had amassed in his twenty-seven years of life. Or, the amount of times Spock would hide behind his mother tongue to avoid having to explain something he was uncomfortable with during the Alpha bridge crew’s bi-weekly get-togethers.

For someone who insisted on being in control of his emotions at all times, Spock was incredibly easy to embarrass.

“Wait, wait.” A grin began to tug at the corners of Jim’s mouth. “Are you trying to tell me the age-old saying ‘cats always land on their feet’ is actually applicable to not only cats, but also Vulcans?”

“While it is not true felines always land on their feet, and neither do Vulcans as you have no doubt been made aware of on numerous occasions, it is a fact that the labyrinthine righting reflex, as you call it, is present in both Vulcans and Terran cats.”

Jim snorted, turning his head to the side to hide the growing flush of red spreading across his cheeks as he attempted to suppress a rather unbecoming guffaw. Chancing a glance at his First Officer’s face, Jim knew it had been a mistake as soon as he took in the indignant glare Spock directed at him. Laughter spilled from Jim’s mouth before he could so much as duck his head, the force of it all almost enough to topple him over.  

After a whole two minutes of straight out laughing at his First Officer’s pinched expression, Jim straightened up and held the crinkled blue uniform shirt out towards Spock as a meagre peace offering. “Hah… sorry, Spock. It’s… heh… sorry. That was unprofessional of me.”

“Quite,” Spock replied, moving closer and tugging the shirt from Jim’s grasp. “We should head north. I believe we will be able to find shelter within the forest there.”

“Sounds good,” Jim agreed, clearing his throat of the last vestiges of laughter.

Side by side, they made their way towards the forested area in the distance, ever careful not to alert whatever fauna lurked in their vicinity. In addition, the flatland they traversed over was made up of brittle rock interspaced by patches of high grass, making their journey somewhat tedious.

As they walked, the twin suns began their descent, their combined light just enough to keep the planet at a comfortable temperature of 24 degrees Celsius during the day. Within the hour, the air had grown just a little bit colder, the vanishing sunlight’s warmth weakening by the minute. When they reached the edge of the forest, the shadows had lengthened and their surroundings had been tinted with the tangerine glow of the setting suns.

Jim was unsure what he had expected. The trees, tall and winding, grew in small clusters of five and were settled far enough apart for a hover car to pass between the grouped trunks. Settling his hands onto his hips, Jim surveyed the sparse approximation of a forest. “These trees aren’t going to be much of a shelter once the rain hits, are they?”

Spock inclined his head. “Indeed, Captain. Perhaps we should attempt to find an empty cavern within the rock formation to our left, instead, to lessen the possibility of being surprised by any of the larger examples of local fauna.”

“Probably for the best.”

Parallel to the curving edge of the forest they walked, the ground growing more and more treacherous with every step they took. Sharp rocks protruded from the dry earth, growing larger in size as they approached their destination. Soon, the ground began to tilt, growing steeper as it merged into the jagged rock structure growing skyward from the earth and before long, they were forced to climb. The wind picked up, bringing along the scent of wet foliage and soaked dirt. It would not be long before the rain Spock had predicted rolled in.

“There appears to be cavern 25.4 metres to your left, Captain,” Spock announced.

“Alright,” Jim gasped, grimacing as he heaved himself onto the next higher rock protrusion to get closer to their destination. “Let’s hope nothing big enough to eat us made its home in there.”

Spock settled upon the small platform beside him, “Indeed. If you would allow me to go first, Captain, I would be able to assist your climb towards the cavern with my superior strength and height. It would also quicken our pace considerably.”

“Are you trying to say I’m too short, Mr Spock?”

“I implied no such thing, Captain. However, you have, indeed, not reached the height I have, and thus- _oh, guv’i_ -!”

Jim had barely registered Spock’s rough swear, when the Vulcan went tumbling backwards off the small platform they had only just settled on. This time, there was no graceful twisting motion, no acrobatic manoeuvring, nothing but a mindless flail followed by the sound of Spock’s body slamming into the unforgiving rock. Spock’s unbidden descent did not stop there, his limp form rolling a good thirty metres downhill before a large boulder intercepted Spock’s path bringing the Vulcan to an abrupt and painful halt.

Despite the initial spike of fear which had threatened to paralyse him, Jim had forced himself to move, vaulting off the platform after his wayward First Officer. Sheer luck and determination kept Jim from taking a nosedive down the same jagged route Spock had unwillingly traversed. When Jim finally reached Spock, the Vulcan was just beginning to stir. Dropping to his knees beside the bruised mess of sprawled limbs and torn fabric Spock presented, Jim reached out to cup his First Officer’s face between both palms.

“Spock?” Jim urged. “You with me?”

“Seeing as you are capable of touching me, it can be surmised that I am, indeed, with you, Captain,” Spock muttered, emerald green tongue flicking out to lick at the blood oozing from his split lip.

“Guess you’re sort of okay, if you’re still able to sass your superior officer,” Jim groused, a relieved grin straining at his cheeks. “You think you can get up?”

“If you would permit me a moment to regain my bearings, Captain, I believe I will be able to do as you have asked in 2.3 minutes.”

“Alright, take your time, Spock. Good thing you’re are so sturdy. I’d probably be mush if that happened to me.” Glancing up at the darkening sky, Jim began to grow restless with each passing second.

It seemed like an eternity went by before Spock shifted onto his side and made to sit up, only to freeze as a low, guttural sound of pain oozed out from behind his gritted teeth. In an instant, Jim was on high alert, eyes wide as he touched a careful hand to Spock’s chest, the one place where no obvious tears had damaged the uniform. Gaze sweeping over Spock’s prone figure, Jim saw what he had overlooked the first time around.

The torn sleeve covering Spock’s right arm exposed an unnatural curve to the lower portion of the limb, indicating a break. The skin was already mottled by shades of green, ringed by rusty orange and disconcerting yellow. Unable to keep a grimace at bay, Jim scooted around Spock to assess the damage further. “Fuck, that’s definitely a broken arm. We need to splint this…”

Trailing off, Jim pulled the miniscule med kit from his belt. It was a little banged up, but despite this, activated without complaint, revealing a roll of bandages, soaked on one side, a rolled-up splint, and a tube of disinfectant. Setting the items aside, Jim met Spock’s gaze. “I need to set your arm. It’s going hurt.”

“I am well aware, Captain,” Spock grit out. “Please, proceed.”

Head dipping in a jagged nod, Jim grasped onto Spock’s arm and applied firm pressure. A rasping keen vibrated through Spock’s chest, his legs shifting as Jim coaxed the misaligned bone back into its proper position. Or as close as Jim could manage, considering his limited knowledge in basic trauma care.

It took about a minute to nudge Spock’s bone into place, and another two to secure the splint. By the time Jim was finished, he felt somewhat faint, his hands shaking with the ebb of the adrenaline cursing through his body. Spock lay prone beside him, eyes shut and his chest heaving with every ragged breath he took.

“This should hold until we get back to the Enterprise,” Jim croaked.

Spock grunted, head twitching in what Jim assumed was a nod, and pushed himself upright with some effort. “Captain, I am uncertain whether I will be able to reach the cavern in my current state. It would be prudent to find shelter close by, if possible.”

Jim reached out and wrapped his arm around Spock’s back. “I saw a pretty large rock overhang over to the left. It’s not a cave, but it’s protected on one side and might be enough to keep us dry for the time being. Think you’ll be able to walk?”

Spock moved first his left, then his right leg before replying, “Neither of my legs appears to bear any significant injuries, Captain. I am certain I will be able to walk with your assistance.”

“Alright. Let’s get going, then.”

Together they stood and made their way towards their designated shelter. Their journey did not take as long as Jim had anticipated, leaving them with some daylight so spare as they did their best to get comfortable within the crescent-shaped cavity. Dry moss covered the ground in large patches, providing some insulation against the cold rock, and Jim hoped their now-dry uniforms would be enough to stave off the worst of the coming night’s chill.

 “How long do you think it’ll take the crew to find us?” Jim asked, his eyes darting about their surroundings as the sky grew ever darker.

“I am certain they have contacted the _Enterprise_ by now, Captain. Mr Scott has yet to disappoint in his ability to retrieve crewmembers from the most perilous of situations and I am positive he will manage to pin-point our location in due time.” Spock’s voice, though steady, was strained and it was clear he was in considerable pain.

“You’re right,” Jim said and they both fell silent.

Over the course of the next hour, the temperature dropped steadily and the air began to fill with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, clicks and hisses riding along the stiff breeze. Despite the unfamiliar noises and the uncomfortable environment, Jim found himself growing tired and soon struggled to keep awake. In the end, Jim lost the fight, dozing off to the sound of Spock’s steady breathing and the distant thunder.

Upon waking, Jim noted the first of the twin suns had begun to peek above the horizon, painting their little hollow with warm gold. Unwilling to move, Jim waited for the rest of his mind and body to wake, grimacing at the shrill cries of what might be birds piercing the early morning atmosphere. Spock lay beside Jim, curled around his splinted arm and one uninjured finger hooked into a hole within the sleeve of Jim’s shirt. It was quite endearing, though the picturesque scene was ruined by the various bruises and scrapes mottling Spock’s body.

Stretching his legs, Jim sat up, careful not to jostle the arm Spock was inadvertently holding onto. The ground outside their little haven was still wet from what must have been a heavy rain storm, and Jim was surprised he had slept through it all. After all, living on a starship surrounded by the dangers of space did not promote for a healthy sleep cycle, no matter how much Jim tried to convince Bones of the opposite.

A rough voice broke through Jim’s musings. “Captain!”

Twisting where he sat, Jim felt a wave of crushing relief wash over him at the sight of Lieutenant Hendorff clambering towards them. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you, Lieutenant.”

“I can imagine. Dr McCoy’s been throwing a fit since we alerted Commander Scott about the situation,” Hendorff snorted, sliding into a crouch beside Jim, the expression falling away the moment his eyes landed on Spock’s unmoving form. “What happened?”

“We tried to climb up towards one of the caves to find some shelter. Spock took an unexpected tumble and broke his arm. He didn’t say if anything else was broken, and I’m a little concerned that he hasn’t woken up, yet.” Reaching out, Jim grasped onto Spock’s shoulder and gave it a tender shake. “Spock?”

No response. Spock continued breathing, slow and without even the slightest of twitches indicating him growing closer to wakefulness. Disturbed, Jim met Hendorff’s narrowed gaze, “This doesn’t seem normal.”

“Let’s hope he’s out cold, and if he’s not, McCoy will know what to do,” Hendorff replied, plucking his communicator from his belt and flicking it open. “Lieutenant Herndorff to _Enterprise_.”

“ _Chekov here, sir. Have you found the Captain and Commander Spock?”_

“Yes, we need an immediate beam-up and have a medical team ready, Commander Spock’s been injured.”

Chekov’s voice rose in pitch, as it tended to when caught off guard. “ _Aye, sir! Commander Scott says to prepare for beam-up in two minutes._ ”

“Roger that, Hendorff out.”

It did not take a whole two minutes before Jim felt the familiar tingle of the transporter beam. The second they had materialised upon the beaming pad, Spock was heaved onto a stretcher and carted off. Jim was ushered onto the second stretcher and – for once – did not argue. Bones was always more forthcoming with information if Jim behaved and cooperated, after all.

A good hour went by before Jim was given any information on Spock’s status, during which he was given a number of hypos in addition to dermal-regenerative treatments to heal the scrapes covering his hands and knees. Accompanying all this was a very thorough lecture regarding the dangers of exploring unknown planets by oneself. Still, Jim continued to be a model patient, and before long, Bones ran out of steam.

“How’s Spock?” Jim asked, once Bones had fallen silent and stepped away to observe the readings displayed on the screen fixed to the biobed. “He wouldn’t wake up, is he-”

“Spock’s fine.” Bones waved his hand through the air in a vague gesture. “Fell into a mild version of one of those healing trances. Woke up when we started the bone knitter on his arm.”

Jim slid his legs off the biobed, eyes wide. “He’s awake?”

“Yes, and you’re keeping your ass parked until I give you the go-ahead on annoying your Vulcan, understand?”

“Yes, Bones,” Jim groaned, slumping sideways against the stacked pillows. “You can be so awful sometimes, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah, love you, too, kid,” Bones grumbled, tapping his fingers against the railing of the bed. “Alright, everything looks good, you’re a little dehydrated, but that was to be expected. I’ll get you something to drink and then I’ll take you to your hobgoblin. If he’s asleep again, please, don’t wake him up. He’s as bad as you when it comes to getting some actual rest.”

“Will do,” Jim chirped, accepting the large glass of water Bones thrust at his face.

Just five minutes later, Jim was sat beside Spock’s biobed, relieved to find his First Officer not only awake, but also quite coherent. Though seeing the always proper Spock sans shirt and dressed in a pair of Starfleet-issue sweatpants, did make for a very unusual sight. Jim did not think he had ever seen Spock in such a state of undress before. It was rather refreshing.

“How’re you doing, Spock?” Jim asked, once he had gotten comfortable in the chair Bones had dragged beside Spock’s biobed for Jim to sit in.

Spock’s eyebrows twitched upwards. “I am quite well, Captain. However, Dr McCoy has, unreasonably, banned me from returning to my duties for forty-eight hours, despite me informing him it would not take longer than 26.6 hours for my arm to regain proper mobility after the osteo-regenerator treatment. May I inquire as to your own health, Captain?”

“I’m sure Bones loved to hear you call his decision ‘unreasonable’.” Jim shook his head with a chuckle. “I’m fine. Just a little scraped up, it’s all fine now. Want to tell me how you ended up taking a nosedive like that?”

“As I did not fall facing forward, one cannot classify my fall as a ‘nosedive’, Jim.”

“ _Spock_.” Jim smiled.

“The reason I fell is simple, Jim. I lost balance.”

“The last time you lost your balance, you landed on your feet, Spock.”

Spock’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “There was not enough time for me to react, Jim.”

Jim nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Guess cats really don’t always land on their feet, huh?”

“I am not a cat, Jim.”

“Of course, Spock.”


	2. Ephelides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little less hurt!Spock than the one before it, but I hope it's still enjoyable to all of you :)  
> I also apologise to any and all errors, I've been struggling with headaches throughout the past week and couldn't be arsed to check the chapter over. Awful, I know.

A strong breeze swept across the endless, curving beach Jim had discovered just a short distance away from their landing point. Sand the colour of wild mallow flowers stretched along a clear ocean, the water tinted a delicate mint green as it grew deeper towards the distant horizon. A few feet from the shoreline, rocks rose from the tranquil sea, the same shade of mauve as the sand swallowing Jim’s naked toes.

Turning away from the breath-taking view, Jim scuffled back towards the small campsite the landing party had erected in the shade of a tree-sized succulent. As expected, Spock was already working on removing a chunk from one of the thick leaves. Indigo liquid had seeped from the nicked flesh, discolouring Spock’s hands and flecking his uniform. All in all, the process looked rather messy and almost gruesome.

For some reason, Jim always felt an inordinate amount of joy whenever Spock threw all Vulcan propriety out a metaphorical window.

“Having fun, Commander?” Jim chirped, coming to a halt beside Spock.

“The flesh of this plant is quite similar to that found in Terran aloe, Captain, I am curious to see if it resembles them in other aspects as well.” Spock tugged the leaf part he had been sawing at free, presenting it to Jim.

Grabbing the oozing wedge from Spock’s hand, Jim squinted at the glistening innards which had been revealed. Aside from its colour, it did look rather like a bisected aloe leaf, with its firm, dry skin encasing gel-like flesh. A cool, fresh scent emitted from the leaf. “It smells like cough drops.”

“Indeed,” Spock replied, rubbing his thumb and fore-finger together. “It does produce a cooling sensation upon the skin, much like the Terran candy you have mentioned would.”

“You’ve had cough drops before?” Jim asked, returning the leaf to Spock.

“I have.” Spock inclined his head. “Once, as a young child. While not the most pleasant of sensations, I was rather intrigued by the biochemical reaction the candy produced when ingested.”

For a brief moment, Jim imagined a little Vulcan boy grimacing at the taste of a mint-flavoured cough drop, and he felt his mouth twist with the urge to smile. “I’m sure you did, Mr Spock.”

“Indeed. Was there something you needed, Captain?”

“I thought about going for a swim, since the ocean is made up of plain old salt water. Think I’ll be able to without getting my legs chewed off by a shark?”

“The probability of encountering a shark within these waters is miniscule at best, Captain, however, I would advise not to swim past the rock formations, should there be predatory lifeforms within the deeper regions of the water.” Stowing the leaf sample away within one of the special containers they had brought along, Spock rose from his crouched position and gestured towards the glistening water. “If you wish, I shall accompany you and ensure you will not fall victim to the wildlife, Captain.”

Eyes narrowing at the glimmer of amusement ghosting across Spock’s face, Jim chuckled and took a step towards the water’s edge. “How courteous of you, Mr Spock. Come along, then.”

They strolled towards the shoreline, coming to a halt a few metres from the lapping water and Jim did not hesitate a second longer to divest himself of his uniform shirt. The black undershirt followed suit just a moment later, landing in the sand without much care. Jim contemplated removing his slacks for a brief second, but decided against it in the end. They were of a thin enough material to not be too much of a hindrance in the water.

Shuffling forward, Jim allowed the cool water to wash over his feet, digging his toes into the wet sand. With a quick glance over his shoulder at his stoic First Officer, Jim proceeded further into the ocean, dragging his hands through the oncoming waves soon pushing up against his thighs. As the water swashed against his chest, Jim turned and found Spock had abandoned his boots beside Jim’s crumpled shirts, and was now in the process of rolling up his pantlegs.

Curious, Jim watched as Spock straightened up and took a few steps into the rolling waves, stopping when the water threatening to wet his slacks. For a moment, Jim was quite tempted to make a quip regarding the water aversion of felines. Instead, he called out, “You coming in, too, Spock?”

Spock hesitated for a miniscule second. “I believe it would be wiser for me to stay where I am, Captain.”

“Oh? Are you sure?” Jim grinned. “The water’s really nice. And I bet there’s hundreds of new organisms for us to explore in here.”

“Indeed, Captain.” Spock shifted, glancing over his shoulder towards the rest of the landing party before directing his gaze back to Jim. “However, I would prefer not to be beamed back aboard in soaking trousers.”

Jim scoffed, flapping his hand. “The sun’s gonna dry your pants in no time, Spock. It might also strengthen the crew’s morale to see their impeccable First Officer having fun for once.”

Spock tilted his head, eyes darting upwards in what Jim had long since realised was Spock’s version of an eyeroll. “Captain, your persuasion tactics leave a lot to be desired.”

“Good thing Vulcans don’t _desire_ anything, then!” Jim chirped, slapping his palms onto the water’s surface with an obnoxious wink.

“You are incorrigible, Captain.”

“I know. C’mon, you can’t tell me you’re not curious. Also, you might have better chances at saving my ass if anything decides to take a bite out of me if you were a little closer to my person, wouldn’t you say, Mr Spock?”

As expected, the use of undeniable logic worked like a charm.

Shaking his head, Spock grasped onto the bottom of his uniform and tugged it off in a swift motion. The garment was then folded neatly and set beside Jim’s, followed by the black undershirt. Amused and quite satisfied with himself, Jim watched as Spock began to wade forward, spine stiff and hands clasped behind his back.

“Good to have you with me, Mr Spock,” Jim grinned the moment Spock came to a halt beside him, water sloshing against their chests.

Spock’s eyebrow rose. “Indeed, Captain.”

Pulling his feet off the sandy bottom, Jim allowed the water to carry his weight, dragging his arms through the waves to keep upright. “I’m thinking we should check out those boulders first, what do you say?”

Spock inclined his head and together they proceeded towards the nearest rock. The water grew deeper and soon Jim found he could no longer touch the ground below without his head dipping beneath the surface.  It proved not to be an issue, seeing as the boulder provided enough options to hold onto. The rocks, which had appeared so unicoloured from the shore, were painted in marbled shades of lavender and plum, speckled in crystalline inclusions of delicate pink.

“Fascinating,” Spock muttered, his palms already brushing along the rough rock face.

A thin strip of algae-like growth circled the rock, marking the place where the waves licked along the protruding, sun-dried areas of the boulder. The plant consisted of a network of study vines and suction cups, which then sprouted in loose thread-like leaves. It was of the same hue of indigo as the plant juice still discolouring Spock’s probing hands, the curling tendrils swaying in the steady back and forth of the ocean.

Leaving Spock to investigate his newfound curiosity, Jim rounded the boulder, eager to have his own, special brand of fun. The side facing south provided a number of easily accessible grooves and small cervices, creating a natural staircase. Without hesitation, Jim began to climb, clambering his way up the enormous rock until he reached the flat top where he stood. Pressing his hands into the divots of his waist, Jim let his gaze wander over the glistening water towards the far horizon.

What might be hiding within those ocean depths? Perhaps the ruins of an ancient civilisation? A flourishing culture which had adapted to life under water? Creatures so large, their own weight would crush their internal organs were they to leave the sea? The possibilities were endless and Jim’s imagination ran wild, as it tended to do when left to wonder.

“Captain, I do not believe your current position constitutes as a safe one.”

Blinking, Jim shook himself free of his musings and knelt to peer down at Spock over the edge of the platform. “Should I fall, I’d land in the water, Spock. Don’t worry.”

“Vulcans do not worry,” Spock replied.

“Sure,” Jim laughed. “You should come up here, the view is pretty great.”

Spock’s shoulders rose and fell in a visible sigh. Still smiling, Jim watched his First Officer work his way around the boulder until Spock reached the spot Jim had climbed the rock face at. Quick and graceful as expected, Spock scaled the boulder and came to kneel beside Jim, dripping cold water onto the marbled stone beneath them.

“Pretty nice up here, right?” Jim grinned, nudging his bare shoulder against Spock’s.

“It does provide a comfortable place to view the surrounding area from, yes,” Spock replied, shifting to sit, legs crossed and hands cupped over his knees.

Jim nodded, dropping down onto his behind and swinging his legs over the edge of the platform, allowing them to tangle above the rushing waves. A few quiet minutes went by, neither of them speaking as they took in the foreign – yet familiar – sounds of the world around them. Then, in the distance, a shimmering mass breached the water, spluttering a spray of foaming water into the air, a large row of plate-like spines spearing through the water next and folding down, lying parallel to the surface of the ocean. In an instant, Jim found himself both awed and terrified, eyes locked onto the enormous, floating animal.

“Fascinating,” Spock said, for the second time, his voice soft, as if to avoid alerting the creature to their presence.

Glancing at Spock, Jim nodded. “And a little scary.”

Spock inclined his head. “Wariness towards the unknown is a quite logical reaction. It has ensured the survival of many species.”

“Guess this one doesn’t have to be wary of us, though,” Jim muttered, watching a stiff fluke lift from the water and fall back down with a splash.

From the shoreline came a chorus of gasps, prompting Jim to twist and watch the rest of the landing party dash towards the ocean’s edge, gesturing and waving their arms into the direction of the creature. Hopefully, whatever had surfaced was not capable of swimming any closer, lest it become curious to see what was intruding on its turf. Jim did not think Spock and he would be quick enough to vacate the area in time.

After a breathless minute and no reaction from the beast, Jim allowed himself to relax. An hour went by in which the creature proceeded to float, soaking in the sunlight while uttering an array of close to cetacean sounds, from the lulling song of a blue whale, to the moaning calls of the humpback whale. Then, as unexpected as it had appeared, the creature vanished, sinking back beneath the waves, leaving the ocean to foam in its wake.

When the water ceased to bubble, Jim was quite ready to leave the uncomfortable rock behind and return to the shore. “Looks like the coast is clear.”

“Indeed.”

Standing, Jim peered down into the clear water. “How high’s the chance of me hitting my ass on a small stone if I were to jump?”

Spock moved to lean forward, following Jim’s gaze. “Quite small, as the ocean floor seems to be primarily composed of sand, even around these rock formations. However, I strongly suggest you do not attempt to find out if my hypothesis is correct, Captain. Moreover, the creature we have just witnessed might be attracted by the splash your jump would generate and could return to investigate.”

“It didn’t seem very interested when our colleagues decided to act like a bunch of five-year-olds seeing a tiger for the first time,” Jim mused, shoulders slumping as he came to a decision, “But I definitely don’t want to be the first to figure out this alien whale thing is smarter than anticipated.”

“I am gratified you share my opinion regarding this matter, Captain.”

“Oh, don’t look so smug. Get up, you’re climbing down first so I don’t get crushed if you slip.”

They returned to the beach without further incidents. Still dripping wet, Jim began to gather up his discarded uniform shirts and shoes, eager to beam back aboard the Enterprise to escape the relentless sun. The weather had felt a lot less maddening before Jim had spent an hour roasting in the heat, trapped on a small rock. There would, no doubt, be a sunburn showing itself along the bridge of Jim’s nose in the near future. Only so much could be kept at bay by a pre-emptive use of sunblock. 

Spock was, as always, one step ahead. Standing a few metres to the side, Spock had flipped open his communicator and had been patiently waiting for Jim to finish digging his socks out of the sand. Straightening up, Jim ambled closer and it was then he noticed the emerald green discolouration running along most of Spock’s upper body and face.

“Spock, did you get sunburnt?” Jim inquired, leaning in to inspect the irritated skin of Spock’s cheekbones.

The skin was, while not blistered, radiating an unnatural heat. Concerning, even to someone who possessed only rudimentary knowledge of all things medical, like Jim.

“Captain,” Spock said, his voice tinged with something like exasperated amusement. “A step backwards would be much appreciated.”

“Sorry.” Jim retreated a bit. “My question?”

Spock tilted his head, pressing two fingers to his own shoulder and lifting them away. A pale imprint was visible for but a moment before it was swallowed by the green inflammation once more. “I believe I overestimated my ability to withstand UV radiation.”

“I’ll say!”

“It is of no matter, Captain, I am certain Dr McCoy will, after a superfluous amount of scolding, provide me with efficient treatment,” Spock assured.

“Well, you better get that checked out quickly, it already looks really painful.”

Spock inclined his head and proceeded to hail the _Enterprise_. Five minutes went by, before the familiar golden glow began to engulf them. Jim gave a jaunty wave into the direction of the remaining landing party, until they were whisked away, rematerializing upon the transporter pad. Barefoot, half-dressed, and now much too aware of it due to the smooth platform beneath his feet, Jim did his best to appear as authoritarian as possible, with questionable results.

“Dammit, Jim, why are you half-naked?” Bones grumbled, stepping close once Jim had vacated the transporter pad, tricorder bumping against Jim’s chest. “And dripping wet, too, I told you to stay out of the water.”

Jim grinned, shrugging. “C’mon, Bones, nothing happened. Spock and I had loads of fun.”

“We spent approximately 1.3 hours upon a large rock jutting from the ocean, in order to avoid a large cetacean creature floating close by. Its appearance was rather sudden. It is part of the reason why we decided to return, while the rest of the landing crew remained planet side,” Spock interjected.

Bones sighed, turning away from Jim to address Spock. “You two are impossible- by God, Spock, you look like a boiled broccoli!”

It took every ounce of mental strength Jim possessed not to break out into undignified guffaws at the stumped expression overtaking Spock’s face for a good ten seconds. Being compared to a cooked vegetable appeared to have momentarily derailed Spock’s higher brain functions. Apparently not inclined to wait for a response, Bones grabbed onto Jim’s arm and hooked two fingers into Spock’s belt, tugging them both into the direction of the turbo lift.

Upon reaching sickbay, Jim was plonked onto a chair while Spock was forced onto a biobed, upright to keep his sunburnt skin away from the sheets. Bones bustled about for a moment and returned with a small container filled with a dove blue salve. A dollop was smeared across the bridge of Jim’s nose and massaged in by Bones’ gloved fingers. “I’m pleasantly surprised you remembered to put sunscreen on this time, Jim. Unlike your Vulcan.”  

“Vulcans have evolved to withstand UV radiation-”

“But you’re not entirely Vulcan, Spock,” Bones drawled, moving away from Jim to chuck the used gloves into a bin, exchanging them for a fresh pair.

“…Indeed,” Spock acquiesced. “Will I be able to return to my station once you have applied this, Doctor?”

“I’m going to keep you here for at least six hours, just to make sure neither of you two knuckleheads is suffering from sunstroke. I don’t want to hear any complaints, Jim, unless you want to risk throwing up on the bridge, you’re staying right here.”

Rolling his eyes, Jim slumped against the backrest of the uncomfortable chair and watched as Bones began to spread the cream over Spock’s forehead, nose, and cheeks. Halfway down Spock’s chest, Bones’ pager gave a shrill cry. Teeth clenched around a curse, Bones pushed the salve container into Spock’s hand and fished the chirping annoyance from his belt loop, flicking it open with a barked, “McCoy?”

“ _Chapel here, sir, we have a femur break on deck eight._ ”

“Understood, get me Nurse Ihk’raz and tell them to meet me there with the necessary equipment. Any signs of haemorrhaging?”

“ _Unknown, call was received shortly before I contacted you._ ”

“Alright, I’m on my way.” Bones flicked the pager shut. “Sorry about that, Spock. I’ll get a nurse to help you with the salve, you won’t be able to reach your back.”

Jim cleared his throat, waving his hand through the air. “It’s okay, Bones, I’ll take care of it. I’m probably qualified enough to handle applying cream to a sunburn.”

Bones hesitated, then nodded. “Alright. If either of you starts feeling nauseous or anything of the sort, call for a nurse. I’ll probably be a while, but I can guarantee you, I will not be happy if you two decided to run off before I return. Got it?”

“Yes, Bones,” Jim whined, just as Spock offered a subdued, “Affirmative, Doctor.”

Rolling his eyes, Bones trudged off, muttering all the while. Once the doors had slid shut behind his friend, Jim stood and moved to stand beside the biobed. “Give it here, Mr Spock.”

“I will finish my chest first, Captain.”

“Right,” Jim chuckled. “I should probably get a pair of gloves first, anyway.”

Spock inclined his head. “It would be much appreciated, Captain.”

Once Jim had retrieved a pair of disposable gloves and Spock finished salving his front, Jim clambered onto the biobed, settling behind his First Officer. The vat of ointment was handed to Jim a moment later. In silence, Jim began to work, smoothing dollop after dollop of salve into the irritated dermis, grimacing with every pained grunt his motions drew.

The skin along Spock’s shoulders had taken the brunt of the sunburn, displaying an array of colours so bright, it resembled those found in fresh basil leaves. As the ointment sank in, the verdant shades started to slowly fade, leaving an olive tan and, to Jim’s astonishment, a generous smattering of freckles. Flecks coloured anything from moss to pine green bloomed across the expanse of Spock’s broad shoulders and down his spine.

“I didn’t know you had freckles, Spock,” Jim noted.

Spock twitched, his hands rising halfway to his own face. Curious, Jim slipped off the biobed, rounding it to see what had prompted the strange reaction, and could not help the grin at the sight of Spock’s speckled cheeks. Judging by Spock’s automatic response to Jim’s statement, these freckles were not at all a surprise to the Vulcan.

“It has been a very long time since these… ephelides were visible enough to be noticed,” Spock said, keeping his eyes locked on something just above Jim’s shoulder.

“Well, they’re definitely a lot more charming than the – what was it – the boiled broccoli look you were rocking ten minutes ago.”

Spock’s eyes closed in a slow, deliberate blink. “Thank you, Captain.”

“You’re welcome, Mr Spock.”


End file.
